Training: Almost Impossible
by wolfgirl16
Summary: The road to becoming official government agents isn't easy. Just ask Leon and Krauser. Prequel to Mission: Almost Impossible.
1. Arrival

**Training: Almost Impossible**

Disclaimer: You know the drill. I own nothing but the fanfic nor do I claim to, so don't sue me!

Summary: The road to becoming official government agents isn't easy. Just ask Leon and Krauser. Prequel to Mission: Almost Impossible.

* * *

Chapter 1: Arrival

* * *

Leon smiled brightly as he approached the gates of the facility where his training would soon go underway. When that was done, he could become an agent for the President and get as much booze as he wanted. Or was that bartender school? It didn't matter.

"Who the hell are you?!" The guard standing at the gate shouted, waving his clipboard around wildly.

Leon, startled due to the sudden outburst and the fact the guy looked like he'd been pumping steroids since the tender age of five, replied meekly, "I'm Leon Kennedy."

"Hmm, Leon Kennedy..." The guard scanned his clipboard before saying, "Ah, yes, here you are."

"So I can go in?"

"After the cavity search. You know, so we know you're not a terrorist and junk."

Leon went pale. "Cavity search? W-Wha-What do my teeth have to do with anything? I-I hate dentists."

The guard chuckled evilly, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. "Oh, you'll see...Follow me."

* * *

The brunette groaned as he exited the small shack-like building, rubbing his posterior through his pants. "Cavity searches hurt..."

Another guard approached Leon, this one appearing much less intimidating than the other one. He gave Leon a brief smile and asked for his name.

"W-Why? Will I have to go through another cavity search?"

"What?" The guard looked confused. "What cavity search?"

"One of the other guards said cavity searches are performed on everyone to make sure they're not a terrorist!"

"We don't do cavity searches, dude."

Leon's jaw dropped, his eyes going to the size of plates.

"But anyways, follow me and I'll show you to your bunk."

Dry sobbing quietly, the recently-molested man followed the guard, hoping that he had just jumped the hardest hurdle and everything afterwards would be smooth sailing. He was led to a rather large single-story building labeled 24B. Upon first entering, Leon saw there was a bunk bed on one side of the room and another on the other.

"You're assigned here to bunk 24B." The guard said. "Your bunkmates will be here shortly. Wait here and I'll get your uniform. What size do you wear? Oh, never mind. You look like you're a small."

Leon growled as the guard left. Small? He'd show him small once training was complete. He'd be so buff that he could kick the ass of a Spanish cultist who had mutated into a weird creature with even weirder eyes.

Another guard came in, followed by an impressively buff blond man already wearing one of the regulatory trainee uniforms. The size of his muscles scared the shit out of Leon until he tripped over his laces and hit the floor face-first.

"God damn! Are you okay?" The guard asked as he helped the man up. He choked as he caught sight of the clear imprint of the man's face in the floor. "Holy shit, look at what you did to the floor!"

"Ugh..." The man grumbled, dazed.

"I'm gonna go see if I can find something to cover that up." He let go of the man and left, causing him to almost topple onto the floor had Leon not caught him.

"You okay?" Leon snickered. "Nice imprint in the floor. What's your name?"

"...Bob." The man mumbled.

"Your name is Bob?"

Suddenly snapped out of his daze, the blond said, "Who the hell is Bob? My name's Jack Krauser! But just call me Krauser."

"I'm Leon. Nice to meet ya." Leon helped Krauser over to the bunk on the right side of the room, easing him to sit on the bottom bunk before sitting next to him. "Do you have, um, steel implants in your face or something?"

Krauser shook his head. "Nah, shit like that happens all the time. One time when I was nine or something, I tripped at church and left an imprint in the bible and I knocked over a bowl of holy water and it burned me."

Wordlessly, the brunette scooted away from the blond a couple of inches.

"Another time, I broke some kid's leg during soccer cuz I fell and my face hit him in the knee."

"Krauser...you are a freak of nature."

"I'm not a freak of nature! Those are hippies. I'm just a freak."

"Eh..."

"Here, Kennedy." The first guard announced as he returned with a uniform. "Fresh uniform ready for wearing." He tossed it over to Leon. "There's gonna be a meeting in a few where the general will greet everyone and the drill sergeant will brief everyone over what's going to happen." He excused himself to leave.

Krauser cocked his head to the side, puzzled. "General? What?"

Leon shrugged. "Makes sense to me that there would be a general here since some of us are trying to become agents, others mercenaries, and God knows what else."

"Agents? Mercenaries? God damn it, I thought this was cooking class!"

The brunette's eyebrow arched up. "Cooking class? Are you serious? A freaking cooking class?"

"Yeah! I mean, God knows I'm shit in the kitchen. The only thing I can make without blowing up the microwave is cereal. Oddly, one time when I was getting myself a bowl, the microwave randomly exploded and I wasn't even using it."

"That's happened to you, too?" Leon asked, pleasantly surprised.

"Are you serious?! That's happened to you?!"

"Krauser," Leon slung his arm around the bigger man's shoulders. "I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

The touching moment was interrupted when the guard who led in Krauser came back with another man and a small rug. The guard was just about to warn the man of the face print in the floor when the man found out about it himself by stepping on it and tripping, nearly breaking his nose on the floor.

"Uh...watch out for the face print..." The guard reached down to move the man's legs so he could put the rug down.

"My face..." The man groaned as he rolled over on his back, rubbing his hand into his face. "Good. Nothing's broken."

"I'll...uh...I'll just go and get your uniform." He left again, leaving the man on the floor in obvious pain.

"Are you alright over there?" Leon asked.

"Dandy..." The man groaned.

"What's your name?"

"Call me HUNK."

"HUNK?" Krauser scoffed. "What kind of a name is HUNK?"

"It's short for Harold Urman Nicholas Kelly, okay?"

Both men sitting on the bed snickered at the final part of the first name, playfully pushing each other to get the other one to stop laughing, though it wasn't working. HUNK glared at them before picking himself up off the floor and went over to the other bunk-bed to sit down.

"So, what're you here for?" Leon questioned after the giggling and pushing ceased. "I'm here to be an agent." He pointed at Krauser. "He, um, thought this was a cooking class, so obviously he has no idea what he's doing here."

"I'm going to be a mercenary." HUNK laid back on the bed. "I'm good at not getting killed, so I'd be perfect at it."

"Good at not getting killed? How?" Krauser tilted his head to the side in curiosity.

HUNK sat up, looking rather pompous with himself and he said, "I got hit by an ice cream truck and lived. TWICE."

While Krauser looked completely shocked and awestruck, Leon looked confused. Getting hit by an ice cream truck wasn't a big deal. Those things barely cleared five mph and the only way someone could possibly even get hit by one would be to just stand in front of one and wait about ten hours for it to hit them.

The guard came back one final time, another man in tow wearing the trainee uniform. Either this man was really, really tan or he was of Hispanic origin.

"It's an illegal alien!" Krauser gasped, pointing at the new man.

Leon smacked the blond in the back of the head with his arm. "Krauser! That is so freaking racist!"

The guard's face fell. "H-How did you know I was- OH, you meant Carlos Oliviera here!" He laughed sheepishly. "Well, uh, here ya go!" He threw the uniform over to HUNK. The uniform, starched and pressed to the point of acting like a piece of cardboard, flew much like a frisbee and ended up hitting HUNK painfully in the face. The guard hastily made his leave, shutting the door behind him.

"My eye!" HUNK groaned, holding a hand to his eye. "God damn it, that hurt!"

"Good at not getting killed, eh?" Krauser snickered.

"Yeah, killed, not hurt!"

"Um..." Carlos looked between the three men unsurely. "So...what's going on?"

Leon shrugged. "We're just getting to know each other and trying not to get killed in the process.

"That's cool." Carlos made to step over to the bunk bed where HUNK sat. As his foot was about to step onto the rug that hid the depression of Krauser's face, Leon tried to warn him about it, but it was too late. He stepped on it and fell, resulting in a terrible nosebleed.

After everyone took care of their slight injuries, a guard came in a told them it was time for the meeting. They followed the guard over to the cafeteria, where hundreds of other men like them, sort of, were gathered around at tables. They sat themselves at a sparsely populated table and chatted amongst themselves before a gunshot was fired, scaring everyone senseless. Three people were even scared into a massive heart attack, though nobody really took notice of them.

"Gentlemen," The general began, lowering his gun. "Thank you all for being here this afternoon."

"Are you going to shoot us?!" Krauser cried from near the back, sounding terrified.

"If you don't shut up, I will! Now…I'll make this brief. You assholes are here to become agents and mercenaries and bodyguards and all that bullshit. Piss me off and you will NEVER see the light of day again. I am General Bob Faget."

"Your last name offends me!" Krauser barked, earning snickers from his three bunkmates.

"Get over it! Your training begins tomorrow, rookies!" The general chuckled darkly. "The next year of your life is going to be hell…You're all dismissed!"

The men returned to their living quarters, all whispering to each other how they weren't looking forward to the next year, or the next day even.

* * *

That evening after having a mediocre dinner of soup, the four rookies sat together in the middle of the floor, circling the small rug. A makeshift campfire - a bunch of flashlights taped together - sat on the rug and Krauser tried toasting a marshmallow over it. After a few minutes of trying to toast it, he got pissed and threw it, accidentally hitting HUNK in his eye.

"My EYE! Ugh!" HUNK rubbed at his sore eye, swearing profusely.

Leon clapped his hands. "People, people, PLEASE. We are TRYING to get to know each other here! Focus! Krauser, stop doing stupid stuff and HUNK, stop hurting your eye."

Once things had settled, things went underway.

"My name's Leon." The Kennedy man announced.

"Hi, Leon!" The other three replied.

"I come from Raccoon City and-"

"Oh, my God!" Carlos gasped. "I was there, too! I was one of the mercenaries!"

HUNK looked surprised. "Me, too! I never saw you, though."

Leon scrunched his face, confused. "Wait, hold up. HUNK, you said you were here to BE a mercenary. And you, Carlos, you said you're already a mercenary! What the hell?!"

"I wasn't an official mercenary." HUNK explained. "I mean, I didn't have my mercenary license. I'm here to get it."

"I got mine taken away." Carlos chuckled sheepishly. "I did some stupid stuff and got it revoked. I'm here to get it back."

Leon nodded. "That makes sense. I think..."

"I'm Krauser!" The scarred man suddenly spoke up, raising an arm in the air as if to get everyone's attention. "And I make face prints!" He grinned childishly.

"...Cool." Carlos cleared his throat. "I'm Carlos, man, and I love the ladies." He smirked. "They LOVE my accent."

"I'm HUNK and I-"

Snickering, Krauser asked, "What does HUNK stand for? I forgot."

HUNK growled. "No. Just...no. My name is HUNK and I-"

"Tell us!"

"No!"

"Freaking tell us!" To emphasize his point, Krauser tore one of the flashlights free and flung it at HUNK, once again accidentally smacking him square in the eye.

"Oh, God, my EYE!"

"Man, maybe you should wear goggles or something."

"Why, you-!" HUNK made a grab for Krauser but the blond scuttled backwards to avoid him.

"Okay!" Leon stood up. "Time for bed!"

The other three men agreed and scurried off to bed. Well, HUNK and Carlos did. Krauser began doing stretches on the floor as Leon peeled off his shirt and climbed into the lower bunk.

"Krauser, what the hell are you doing?" Leon inquired as he watched the elder man stretch.

"Getting ready." Krauser explained.

"Getting ready for WHAT?"

"For-" He made a mad dash for the bed, screaming, "BEEEEEEED!!!" as he ran. He leapt onto the top bunk, landing heavily on his back. The force from his landing caused the top bunk to come loose and land on top of Leon, crushing him. His screaming was muffled as he flailed whatever limbs were sticking out from between the two bunks. "…Oops. Sorry, pretty boy."

* * *

It certainly seems like the boys are in for a hell of a year. Please be sure to leave a review! :3


	2. Training Begins

**Training: Almost Impossible**

Disclaimer: You know the drill. I own nothing but the fanfic nor do I claim to, so don't sue me!

Summary: The road to becoming official government agents isn't easy. Just ask Leon and Krauser. Prequel to Mission: Almost Impossible.

* * *

Chapter 2: Training Begins

* * *

While darkness still lingered in the sky, the four rookies lay sound asleep in their bunks. After Krauser had broken his and Leon's bunk-bed, they had another one dragged in. The new one seemed to be doing well for now, but as it grew closer to dawn, the top bunk collapsed yet again on Leon, waking up both agents-in-training.

As soon as Leon's muffled screams were heard, another bout of yelling popped up. It was coming from HUNK, shouting about a broken piece of Leon and Krauser's bunk that had flew across the room and hit him in the eye, awakening him. In turn, his screams woke up Carlos, who was sleeping on the top bunk.

"Wha? Huh?" Carlos sat up in a sleep-induced haze, only snapping out of it when suddenly his bunk gave out and crushed HUNK, forcing even more screams out of the brunette, albeit muffled.

By the time they managed to extract the two agents sandwiched between the beds, a sergeant had burst through the door and blew into the trumpet he held, causing the four rookies to shriek girlishly in surprise.

"What's going on?!" Leon cried.

"Are we going to die?!" Krauser dry sobbed.

"Get out here!" The sergeant pointed out the door before leaving to awaken the rookies in the next bunk via scare tactics.

Lazily, the four adorned their clothes and trudged outside, joined by all of their fellow rookies. Once everyone had been assembled, the drill sergeant came forward and informed them - grinning maniacally - that they were going to run five miles.

"And if you don't," He added. "You're going to get a cavity search from someone with a Freddy Krueger glove!"

The words struck a fearful motivation in everyone and they began to run. It was only a few minutes afterwards that nearly everyone had collapsed onto the ground, panting raggedly. Some still managed to run, but it wasn't long before everyone was down for the count, bodies piled amongst bodies.

The drill sergeant looked over them, shaking his head. Perhaps they would do better at the other trials his underlings were to face after breakfast.

* * *

"That sucked!" Krauser whined to Leon as they stood in line for their breakfast. "I'm all sweaty but I can't get a shower until later, I have to do more physical work, and God damn it, I think I pulled a muscle in my lower backside!"

"I know, Krauser. I was there, right underneath you." The brunette grumbled before getting himself and Krauser a tray.

"I wonder what's for breakfast?"

"If I can eat it, I'm fine with it."

Much to Leon's dismay, the two of them discovered breakfast was anything but edible. They were given some crackers and a steaming bowl of mush, probably oatmeal, that looked rather unappetizing. They made their way to the table Carlos saved them and sat across from him, noting that he didn't seem to think the breakfast looked very mouth-watering either.

"What the hell is this?" The ex-mercenary lifted his spoon and turned it so the mush plopped back into the bowl, sending small spatters on Leon and Krauser's faces.

"Watch it!" Krauser growled.

"Hey, I wasn't doing it on purpose."

Leon grimaced as he did to his breakfast what Carlos did to his. "This looks like something a mother bird would feed to her babies."

Carlos asked, frowning, "Don't they vomit in their babies' mouths?" to which Leon nodded.

"EW!!!" Krauser gagged, chucking his bowl at the Hispanic to get him to shut up. Carlos ducked, the bowl missing him and hitting the approaching HUNK in the face, knocking him flat on his back.

"MY EYE!!!" He screeched, holding his face. He rolled around on the floor in pain as his three bunkmates watched him.

"Krauser, you retard! Look what you did!" Leon picked up his bowl. "Maybe this will get you to stop!" He flung the bowl at Krauser, though at the last minute, the bigger man smacked it away unintentionally in Carlos' direction. It hit him in the chest, knocking him out of his seat. Much to the misfortune of HUNK, Carlos ended up smacking the back of his head hard on HUNK's pelvic region.

HUNK shrieked girlishly. "My happy place!" He dry sobbed in a high-pitched tone.

"See what you did, Carlos?! You made HUNK sterile!" Krauser motioned to the now-all-out sobbing HUNK.

Groaning and rubbing his chest, Carlos sat up. "It was your fault I fell, estupido!"

Krauser gasped before turning to Leon. "Did he just call me asparagus?!" He paused, then asked, "Hey, comrade, what's an asparagus? Does it hurt?"

Leon didn't answer. He just sighed and slapped his own forehead, shaking his head slightly.

The rest of breakfast went off without a hitch afterwards. Some of the rookies - including HUNK and Carlos - were herded over to the obstacle course while the rest of them were taken to a spacious field. In the middle of the field stood a randomly-placed wall on which there was a single window and off to the side, there was a stack of what looked like spare windows.

The drill sergeant had the rookies quickly assemble to the side of the wall before speaking. "Alright, you fruits. Someday you're gonna need to jump out a window. Today you're going to learn how to do it properly."

"So wait...There's a wrong way to jump out a window?" Leon frowned, confused.

"If you plan on surviving after jumping out, then yes! Now, watch how a pro does it, then you do it." The drill sargent ran to the other side of the wall to get a good start before turning and running back, this time heading for the window. He leapt and broke through the glass, sending shards of it everywhere as he did a roll on the ground and stood up. He brushed the dust and glass bits off of him casually. "Alright, ladies, your turn. Just give me a second to-" He stopped as he heard grunts of pain behind him. He turned and, to his astonishment, saw there were already three men laying face-down on the ground, one on top of the other. A fourth jumped through the window, cutting himself on the glass and landing on the heap of men with a choked grunt.

"Oh, my God, how stupid are you idiots?! You were supposed to wait until I replaced the window!" The drill sergeant growled in frustration.

After tending to the wounds of the four morons and setting a new window in place, the drill sergeant began the exercise again. One by one, the rookies jumped through, most of them messing up their landing or their leap, sans one or two of them. One man even managed to injury his pelvic region as he passed through, and seeing as he was in a great deal of pain and had a previously unmentioned heart disease, he went into cardiac arrest.

"Stand back!" Krauser shoved a few people to the side even though they were nowhere near in his way. "I know CPR!" He ran over to the fallen man and kicked him so that he flipped onto his back and he straddled his hips. The blond clasped his hands together and raised them high over his head before he beat them onto the man's chest, repeating the actions consistently. As he kept up his pounding upon his fellow rookie's chest, Krauser screamed, "The power of Christ compels you! The power of Christ compels you!"

Leon watched in disbelief. "Krauser, this isn't an exorcism!"

The elder rookie retorted, "Pretty boy, I most certainly am NOT exercising!" without skipping a beat.

"Krauser!"

"Comrade, shut up! I'm trying to do CPR here!"

"That is NOT CPR!"

Krauser stopped his pounding and eyed the brunette skeptically. "Alright, pretty boy. Since you're such an expert at this, why don't you try?"

"Gladly." Leon knelt down beside the unconscious rookie's head. "This is how you do CPR." He took a deep breath, then - with a swift hand - slapped the man's face repeatedly. As he slapped, Krauser could see it wasn't helping the situation, so he went back to his beating of the man's chest.

The drill sergeant smacked his hand to his mouth, releasing a muffled scream of frustration into his palm.

* * *

The medic had arrived in the field nearly fifteen minutes after total hell broke loose. The drill sergeant decided that the rookies could have the rest of the day off, afraid that something worse was going to happen that would result in the death of somebody. He trudged back to his office to have a swig of his emergency vodka.

Leon and Krauser, pleased with their treatment of the patient even though they unknowingly ended up fracturing his ribs and bruising his face, returned to their bunk to wait for lunch time. They discovered HUNK and Carlos chilling on the bunk-beds, though Carlos was laying on Leon's bunk rather than his own.

The Kennedy man wandered over to his bunk. "Carlos? What is your fat ass doing on my bed?"

The Hispanic shrugged. "I didn't want to crush HUNK."

"Oh, don't be such a wuss!" Krauser began to prep himself for a flying leap onto Carlos' bunk and HUNK looked…None of them could actually tell how he looked. He had donned a gasmask with cherry-tinted eyepieces. The blond stopped to stare at him. "CRUNK? What the hell are you wearing?"

HUNK frowned, his expression unreadable behind the mask. "It's HUNK, Krauser, and I'm wearing this so you won't hurt my eye again."

"Wuss." Krauser taunted him before leaping, not on the top Carlos' bunk, but his own. Carlos cringed and closed his eyes, expecting for the top bunk to come down on him and smash him, but it didn't. Unsurely, he peered out from under the bunk, watching as Krauser sat on the edge and began untying his laces.

"Oh, sure." The gasmask-wearing rookie grumbled. "HE doesn't get crushed, but I-" He was cut off by two loud screams originating from the other side of the room.

The top bunk had collapsed, forcing a shout of surprise from Krauser and a cry of terror from Carlos, though now his shrieks and screams were muffled from the top bunk blanketing him heavily.

A sharp, broken piece of the bunk flew across the room and HUNK cringed, waiting for it to hit him in the eye and briefly forgetting his was safe in his gasmask. The bunk piece completely bypassed him and hit the wall with a small clink.

"Hah!" HUNK cried jubilantly. "I didn't get-" And then - randomly - the top bunk collapsed and fell on top of him, forcing muffled screams out of him.

* * *

Such a terrible first day of training for the guys, don't you agree?


End file.
